


Morne and Me

by Agoodcaptain



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: M/M, Old Fic, rareship, request, south african cricket boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27241372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agoodcaptain/pseuds/Agoodcaptain
Summary: Dale and Morne had a fight, a big one. After training, Morne waits for Dale in the changing room and confronts him about it
Relationships: Morné Morkel/Dale Steyn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Morne and Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I found this recently, it's from *ages* ago - someone requested a Morne/Dale fic back in the Tumblr days (maybe one of you will recognise it!)
> 
> I don't think I knew much about South African cricket at the time but I remember enjoying writing it so hope you enjoy reading it too!

Dale Steyn could deal with snakes. He wasn’t afraid of them, like many people would be. Rhinos or elephants didn’t bother him, and lions and cheetah were like big cuddly cats to him. But there was one creature that inspired fear in him that no years of growing up with the Kruger National Park on his doorstep could prepare him for. One beast that could quicken his heart rate, make him sweat and ignite his fight or flight instinct, and that beast happened to be a 6’4” brunette fast bowler called Morné Morkel. Dale would honestly rather bowl at Sachin Tendulkar, Don Bradman and Brian Lara in their heyday than have to stand in the same room as Morné ever again.

Sadly, when on tour with the national team, that wasn’t an option. In fact, when Dale entered the changing room post-practice – he had hung around bowling at the stumps by himself to hope it would be empty – there was one player left: the younger Mr. Morkel. Morné was huddled in the corner, out of his practice gear, and sitting in shorts and t-shirt with his head dropped low. Dale tried to ignore him and went to his stall, removing his trainers, socks, and shirt slowly before sitting down on the bench. Morné still hadn’t roused from his current thoughts and Dale gave in.   
“What do you want, Morras?”   
Morné practically leapt in air with fright and despite his mood, Dale couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. One nil to me, he thought.   
“Steyner, I was waiting for you,” Morné eventually replied.   
“I can see that,” Dale retorted quickly, determined not to give the handsome bowler anything. Morné clearly hadn’t thought about what to say next.

Typical, Dale thought and he gave a derisive snort and turned to hang up his shirt and grab his towel and shower stuff. He looked at the showers and realised Morné was sitting between them and Dale. He stared at the showers remembering the setting of his and Morné’s first illicit encounter in a locked cricket ground they had broken into, the first of many passion-fuelled nights (and mornings, and afternoons) shared by the pair that populated – but didn’t define – their three year relationship. The relationship that had ended one week ago. Dale wondered if Morné was also thinking about this but his ex-lover’s eyes were filled with sadness so Dale coughed and crossed his legs over the semi he was currently experiencing, placing his wash bag on his lap for good measure.

“Why are you doing this?” Morné asked at last.   
Dale spluttered at this, his growing anger putting paid to any nostalgic lust he had been feeling.   
“Me? You think this was my fault? God almighty, Morras, can you be so naieve?”   
The younger bowler merely shrugged, “You’re the one that ended things…” he began but a glare from Dale silenced him.   
“You know why I did that.”   
“Daley, I-”   
“No, don’t. Don’t call me that.” Dale’s skin stung with rage that Morné would use his pet name at a time like this. He got up and was about to march out of the changing rooms without showering, B.O. be damned. But something kept him from walking out and all he could do was slam his fists against the wall.   
When Dale spoke again, it was through tears. “Three years, Mor… we’ve been together three years, through thick and bloody thin and I have to find out about your girlfriend from a fucking gossip rag.”   
Dale couldn’t hold out any longer and his shoulders shook with the sadness that he had bottled in for the last seven days. Instinctively, Morné ran to him and spread his arms around Dale, making soothing noises. And for a while, Dale let him. The embrace was so familiar, so warm and even after all these years; it still set his heart racing. The feeling of Morné’s cotton shirt on Dale’s bare skin felt so much like home to him.

“Why, Morras?” Dale managed after swallowing a few times and wiping away some of his tears.   
He moved out of Morné’s arms as he said this and sat on the bench, away from the other man. Morné took his time answering, sitting down on the bench as well, but giving Dale space.   
“I told you. It means nothing.”   
“It can’t mean nothing.”   
“It just happened. I’ve known her since high school and bumped into her whilst I was home. It was just a stupid date, my mum’s idea of course.”   
“Did you have to kiss her?”   
“I didn’t. She just went for it and I didn’t know what to do. I think she could tell pretty quickly I wasn’t into it. Just some stupid wanker with a camera phone who saw a way to make a quick few Rand from the tabloids.”   
Dale sighed, mainly because this story explained a lot, but also because this mess, like many others, was partly one of Morné’s own making.

Dale took a breath before responding, trying his best to be reasonable, “Look, I get it’s hard for you, keeping a secret but… just talk to me. We’ll get through it. Like we always have. And eventually…”   
“Eventually what?” It was Morné’s turn to get angry now. “They’ll wave rainbow flags for us? Biff will be the best man at our wedding? Get real.”   
Dale was hurt at first but a sideways glance showed that Morné had thought about the latter scenario too, more than once.   
“I’m not a nine year old girl, Mor. But I do believe things will change.”   
“And in the mean time?” Morné turned to face Dale, his gaze steady, his blue eyes boring a hole into Dale’s battered heart.   
Dale knew then that although it was Morné that had done much of that damage, he was going to entrust his heart to the man once again. But it didn’t feel like giving in this time, it felt like coming home again.   
“In the mean time, you have me,” Dale said, with more certainty than he’d ever felt in the last three year adventure of his relationship with Morné.   
But his beautiful boyfriend didn’t catch his meaning; he merely looked at his lap, massaging the hard skin on his palm.   
“Had you. Until I cocked it all up.”   
Dale scooted over silently until his leg was touching Morne’s, ankle against ankle, knee against knee, Morné’s shoulder fitting snugly and perfectly beneath Dale’s. Morné turned to Dale, and gave him a look like he couldn’t believe his fortune. The thing was, he looked at Dale like that all the time, like he was the luckiest guy on the planet to be with Dale. It made Dale’s soul soar.   
“No, Morras, you have me. You always will.”   
Morné leaned in to seal the promise with a kiss but Dale caught the younger man’s jaw in a strong hand. “I love you Mor.”   
“No, I love you more,” Morné giggled like it wasn’t the hundredth time he had done that.   
“Shut up, you idiot,” Dale replied, swatting playfully at Morné’s cheek.   
Morné stopped giggling then and took his lover’s face gently in his calloused hands.   
“Gladly,” he breathed, and finally closed in, kissing Dale tenderly and slowly.   
After a few seconds, Dale broke away laughing.   
“What, no tongue? It’s been a week, you prude, I thought you were going to ravish me.”   
Morné pretended to be offended, “I was trying to be romantic.”   
“Well, you can stay out here being a gentleman. I’m hitting the showers.”   
Dale didn’t wait for a response but got up and headed around the corner of the changing room, pulling his tracksuit and boxers off as he went. Morné grinned hungrily in anticipation as he went to follow his boyfriend, undressing himself hurriedly.   
“For old time’s sake, hey? Now who’s being sentimental?”   
Morné called out after Dale, but the water was already going. Morné laughed and quickened his pace.

* * *

By the time the pair emerged from the showers, it was long past noon and Dale’s belly started to growl.   
Morné laughed and said “Me too,” in response, kissing Dale’s neck as he started to dress. Morné stopped Dale as he went to do up the buttons on his shirt, afraid somehow that when the older bowler was dressed, when they walked out of here, the spell would be broken.   
Dale read his mind, taking Morné’s hand and stroking it, “Don’t worry, I’m still yours when we step out the door. I’ll still be yours when the boys start taking the piss, I’ll still be yours when you get hit for six.”   
“Well, the next time you get hit for six, I’m dumping you,” Morné joked back.   
“Now there’s some extra motivation. Not that I need it.”   
There was a glint in Dale’s eye as he pulled his boyfriend close for a long, deep kiss. They say love is blind but Dale and Morné had never had that luxury and it was only a few seconds before their paradise was interrupted by a far-off clunking followed by the door opening slightly. The couple had long ago learnt to be aware of their surroundings and be very careful of who was watching and they sprung apart with a practiced ease as a cleaner bustled into the room, apologising when he saw the two cricketers, and crashing out again. The two men didn’t complain about having been disturbed, they were used to it, and they knew they could easily pick things up again in the privacy of one of their hotel rooms. In fact, as the boys finished dressing in silence, the only indication that the cleaner had walked in on anything other innocent chat between teammates was the red blush still visible in each man’s cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> I have one more Morne/Dale fic from a while ago that I will post. Please indulge my reminiscing!


End file.
